Thursday, February 8, 2007

WAITING FOR THE CHANGE

It is Thursday night, less than twenty four hours before the first session of Changing Racism. I know that I am supposed to be keeping a journal about racism and my experiences of race, but I am not entirely sure exactly how that is supposed to happen. Am I supposed to be actively seeking out opportunities for interaction with those of other races? Am I supposed to be "doing" something to heal the racial divide that I know is present in my communities and the world? If so, what exactly provides healing? What counteracts years of oppression and degradation?

Rather than ferreting out opportunities to beat racism from my surroundings, my thoughts turn to the racism that I suspect resides deep with my own self. I like to think that I am above racism, that I take people for who they are, rather than the color of their skin. But deep beneath all of that hubris is the knowledge that am more comfortable around people who look, act, and talk as I do. Does that make me a racist? Does that make me interpersonally lazy? Does that make me no better than those who don hoods and spread fear via burning crosses and hurled stones?

I do not want to be a racist, but more than that, I do not want to be perceived as a racist by others, especially those who have felt most acutely the sting and humiliation of racism. I want to do more and I want to be someone who by my words and actions counteracts the years of oppression experienced by others. I want to make it better. I want to spread a balm over the wounds of centuries of injury. I want to change the world.

I fear I will be able to do none of these things and that I will find myself simply standing alongside those who suffer.